Connecting Flight
by MisterMitty
Summary: Oliver and Boo are traveling to meet mom at Grandma's.
1. Chapter 1

"So is Boo excited to ride on an airplane?" Shane asked.

Oliver had to hold the phone tight to his ear to hear above the crowd noise. "I'm not sure. She is excited, but I think that has more to do with going to Grandma's to get mommy than riding on the airplane. How is your mom doing?"

"She is good, ready for Christmas. Our daughter is not easily impressed is she?" Shane laughed.

Oliver laughed. "She is as smart as her mother. I think that's the problem. That little mind never stops."

 _"Flight 4663 to Philadelphia now boarding at Gate 6!" a voice boomed in the background._

"What is she doing while you have to wait?"

"At the moment she is talking to the old man she adopted."

"What? Oliver!"

 _"Flight 5665 to Orange County now boarding at Gate 9!" a voice boomed in the background._

"Relax. It's not like that. He was sitting right beside us when we sat down to wait. She started talking to him as if they were old friends. I don't see any danger, we are sequestered in what amounts to a locked environment. No one gets out, no one gets in. You know what the TSA is like. There are police everywhere to help with holiday crowds. If that doesn't put your mind at ease, I talked with the guy, he is old, pudgy and couldn't run twenty feet without an oxygen tank. Besides, she is only two feet away from me and will stay right there. For some reason the two have been talking a mile a minute ever since. Boo even introduced him to Hermione."

"Oh my," Shane gasped. "She trusts him to meet her bear. Now that is some serious vetting," she laughed.

 _"Flight 3653 to Baltimore now boarding at Gate 7!" a voice boomed in the background._

"Finally," Oliver blurted. "That's our boarding call. We need to start moving."

"Ok. Call me when you're airborne so I can talk to Boo. I want to see how she likes flying."

Oliver lifted three year old Boo from her seat and stood. The rotund old man she had been talking to, stood and handed the child her stuffed bear. His hair was white, his cheeks were red, and his beard was as fluffy as cotton. "Don't forget this, Little Lady," the man said with a voice that oozed laughter. "Wait," he said suddenly. "May I?" he asked Oliver, holding up a tiny silver bell.

The lead Postable for the Denver DLO studied the tiny bell for several seconds. To say the bell was small was an understatement. The thing would easily fit inside of a marble and didn't have enough room to hide anything.

"Sure," Oliver said, smiling.

The man used a short piece of ribbon to tie the bell to the bow circling Hermione's neck. "Now don't forget, Little One. When you hear the jingle bell, look out your window."

"I won't forget, Nick," Boo laughed. Then, "Daddy, hold me closer so I can give a hug."

Oliver did, and the little girl threw her arms around the old man's neck, which started them both laughing.

"Good bye, Boo," the man said and rolled a dark gray Stetson onto his head, the brim tipped jauntily to one side. After bundling a dark wool overcoat around his bulk, he picked up a walking stick with a silver reindeer on the end, tapped it three times on the tile floor, then gave Boo and her daddy a wink.

"Good bye Nick," Boo called, waving a tiny hand as the man disappeared into the crowd. At the same time she used one hand to help Hermione wave too.

Oliver held back, letting the ebb and flow of the moving crowd move them slowly to Gate 7. It was a week before Christmas and it seemed as if everyone in the country was trying to move from one end to the other. He had wisely shipped their luggage ahead to Grandma's house so his only carry on was Boo. And her only carry on was Hermione.

"Boo honey, why did you start talking to the old man?"

"He is really nice."

"You know we don't talk to strangers, don't you?"

"He 'snot a stranger. I have met him before."

"Where?"

"Last winter in our living room. We ate a cookie together."

Oliver made a mental note to have a long discussion with Boo about proper boundaries.

A long gap in the crowd suddenly opened and Oliver took the opportunity to step up to the counter and present boarding passes. The smiling attendant behind the counter stamped them both and then ushered them through into the boarding tunnel. Some distance ahead, Oliver caught another glimpse of the Nick, the old man. The man turned suddenly and looked back at Oliver. Then he smiled once more, laid his right index finger alongside his nose and was gone.

Startled, Oliver started weaving back and forth to get a better look ahead. His eye said the man had vanished but his mind was saying, "NO", he simply disappeared in the crowd. He kept looking until he and Boo stepped into the aircraft. While finding their seats, he scanned every row, ever aisle. Nick was not on the plane.

An hour of time, a hundred horizontal miles, and thirty two thousand vertical feet later, Boo was talking with Shane on Oliver's I-phone. She was explaining to mom how airplanes and cars are a lot alike. Both noisy, both move fast, but you can see better out of a car.

"What?" Shane asked.

"She means its night and we can't see anything out of the windows," Oliver laughed.

"Boo, I want you to try and take a nap so you are rested when you get here. Maybe daddy can help with that?" The arch of her eyebrow insinuated that it was not a request. Oliver laughed. He got the message.

Working carefully, he managed to create a small cocoon with a two pillows from the overhead compartment, with just the right amount of space to fit Boo into. With Hermione. Mission accomplished, he was leaning back into his seat when the little silver bell on Hermione's neck began to jingle quietly.

"Ah!" the little girl gasped. "It's time," she said with a big smile and bright eyes. She got on her knees on the seat and looked out the window, searching among the tops of the moonlit clouds. "Yeah!" she cheered and started bouncing on her knees. "There he is, there's Nick."

Oliver bent and looked out the window. It took a few seconds before he saw what it was Boo was seeing. His stomach turned completely over and the world went all flip-flop for a moment. Oliver O'Toole, the stoic, looked out the window again and saw them once more before they disappeared into a cloud bank.

Barely two hundred feet below, skimming the tops of clouds painted silver by moonlight, was a large red sleigh pulled by eight reindeer. Waving from the sleigh was the old man, still dressed in his wool overcoat and Stetson felt hat. Nick waved to Boo for a last time and the sleigh and reindeer turned toward the north and disappeared.

Boo laid a small hand on Oliver's face. "So glad," she said, patting daddy's face gently. "He made his con'netshun flight. Good thing too. He has so much work to do before Christmas."


	2. Chapter 2

MAKING A FRIEND |

The door between the back porch and Grandma's kitchen squeaked loudly as it was pushed open. Both Shane and her mother looked up from the game of Hearts and smiled, waiting for the inevitable. Tiny footsteps plodded across the tiled kitchen floor and stopped at the very edge of the carpeted dining room. What stood in the doorway was a bundle of snowsuit, puffy mittens, and a stocking cap with Little Kitty ears. The bundle had no face, only two blue eyes peering intently through the space between the cap and the scarf wrapped around its head.

"What are you doing in the back yard, Boo?" Grandma asked.

"Mffr endis," the bundle said.

"Pull your scarf down honey."

The bundle did. "Making a friend," Boo said.

"Is there lots of snow?" Shane smiled at her daughter.

"There's enough. Where's daddy?"

"He is over the river and through the woods at 15 Independence Avenue. He is giving a seminar."

"What's scimatar?"

Shane chuckled, shaking the table lightly. "Oddly profound I think. Under the circumstances," she whispered to her mother.

"A seminar is like a class where someone like your daddy teaches other Postal Employees what he has learned about lost letters, the stories each one of them tells and how important it is that they not be forgotten. To simply cast them aside would be very bad," Grandma said.

"Daddy said anyone who throws them away is 'tolerbaley stupid. He likes the letters."

This time both Shane and her mother shook the table with laughter. "Why did you come in honey?" Grandma asked.

"I need some buttons."

Grandma left her chair and went to the "catch-all" drawer in the kitchen. "How many buttons do you need?"

Boo pointed to her left eye, her right eye, extending one finger for each. Then four more as she made a curve along the line of her mouth. The last two fingers came up as she touched the middle of her snowsuit twice. "This many," she said.

"Does the color matter?" Grandma asked.

"They should be dark. Dark works best."

Grandma counted out eight buttons and transferred them to one of Boo's mittens. Then gently rolled the little girl's fingers until the mitten closed. As quickly as she had come, Boo was back out the door and into the back yard.

"Was Oliver excited about giving his seminar?" Grandma asked.

"Was he ever?" Shane laughed. "I had to help him put his cuff-links in. Can you believe it?" Both women laughed.

"Your sister is coming next week for Christmas."

"Looking forward to the visit," Shane answered. "She seems to get along fine with Oliver."

The back door squeaked again and the padding of little steps approached the carpet one more time. "What do you need now, Boo?" Grandma asked.

"I need a carrot."

Grandma chuckled softly. This time it was Shane who left her chair. She went to the refrigerator, rescued a carrot from the plastic bag there and handed it to her daughter. "What are you making?" she asked.

"A friend. A friend who loves Christmas."

Shane watched her daughter retrace her steps to the yard, smiling. "That little mind is always so busy," she said, sitting again and picking up her cards.

"How are Rita and Norman doing? I haven't seen them since your wedding?"

"They are fine," Shane laughed.

A loud clattering sound came from the back yard, followed by the sound of something heavy sliding along the roof, then a loud "thud" as whatever it was fell into the snow. Both women were getting to their feet when Boo squeaked the back door again and entered the kitchen, laughing to herself.

"What was that noise?" Grandma asked.

"Oh that was just Blister."

"Who is Blister?"

"You know. Comet. Cupid. Donder and Blister. Like that. He said the back yard is too small to land in so he had to recrochaid off the roof of the garage. Nick sent a hat to use. It's perfect too."

"Boo!" Shane gasped. "What are you doing out there?"

"I toll you, I am making a friend for Nick. I am sort of an Elf, but speshullist for today. Nick was too busy to do it himself. So he axed me."

Shane was frowning, remembering the odd story that Oliver had told of the flight to Baltimore. She had passed off the story as fantasy, but now she wasn't so sure.

Grandma was looking puzzled. "What did you come in for this time, honey?"

"A scarf please. We need a scarf."

The two women had given up on cards and were staring at each other. Shane was looking concerned. Her mother looked confused. "This doesn't make sense," she was saying. Shane was about to answer when a very loud male voice shouted from the back yard.

"Merry Christmas!"

Then Boo's happy shout, "It worked!"

Both women were moving at the same time, rushing for the back door and the yard filled with snow. The gate at the side of the yard was standing open and Boo was gone. "Boo!" Shane shouted, running for the gate so fast she left a rooster tail of snow behind her.

Boo was standing on the shoveled sidewalk, waving at two silhouettes just reaching the top of a small rise half a block away, accompanied by the quiet sound of sleigh bells.

"Good bye Frosty," Boo was saying. "Mommy, wave at Frosty."

Grandma slid into Shane, nearly taking them both off their feet. "What happened?"

"Wave," Boo repeated. "He likes it when you wave to him."

Both women were staring at the top of the rise and the two silhouettes. One was a very portly snowman wearing a top hat and the other a reindeer. Both women looked stunned, but both raised a hand and waved. The two silhouettes stopped, turned, then the snowman waved.

"Goodbye Frosty," Boo called. "Say hello to Nick for me and have a Merry Christmas."


	3. Chapter 3

**The Narrator**

" _Twas the night before –_ ." Boo stopped pointing at each of the words of the poem in the little book she had open in her lap and looked up at daddy. "What's a "twas"?"

Oliver chuckled softly to himself, the arm he was using to hold Boo squeezed gently. "Twas is a very old word that means, "It was"," he answered.

"Oh. That's why I don't know that one. I'm not old."

"Are you reading all of the words?"

"Most of them. The rest I have mesmartized."

"Yes you do," Oliver laughed.

" _Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house, not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse –_ . Does Grandma have a mouse?" Boo asked, drawing her legs and feet up onto the bed and staring suspiciously at the floor. "I don't want a mouse."

"No. No mouse. Oscar won't let them in the house." Oscar chose that moment to jump onto the end of the bed and stretch feline muscles in a tall arc. Then he curled into a ball with both eyes watching Boo.

"Thank you, Oscar," Boo said politely. " _The stockings were hung by the chimney with care –_ ." Again she stopped and looked to her father. "How did my stocking from home in Denver get here to Grandma's? And yours and mom's?"

Oliver winked. "I don't know. Did you pack them in your suitcase?"

"No."

"Then it must be Christmas magic."

Boo stared at dad thoughtfully as the unabashed wisdom of her young years analyzed the problem from every possible angle. "I think it's the chimney," she said finally. "We have one, Grandma has one. They might talk to each other and to Nick." She gave Oliver one last look with slightly squinted eyes, suggesting a hint of suspicion that he might not be telling everything he knew about stockings and their chimney. "I'll figure it out," she promised.

"I am sure you will," Oliver smiled.

" _In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there._ Yeah Nick! _The children were nested all snug in their beds, while visions of sugar-plums danced on their heads._ Will that hurt?" she asked.

"What?"

"Sugar plums dancing on my head?"

"No honey," Oliver said, gently running his fingers across her head. "Visions is another old way of saying the children dreamed of Christmas."

"Oh. _And mamma in her skirtchief, and I in my cap, had just settled our brains for a long winter's nap, when out on the lawn there arose such a clatter – ._ That part helped me to understand," Boo smiled.

"Understand what?"

"How does Nick get inside if a house doesn't have a chimney. He uses the front door. _I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter. Away to the window I flew like a flash._ He didn't really fly, that just means fast," she gave dad a knowing look. _Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash. The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow, gave a luster – ._ "

"Luster means it was shinny."

"Oh. _Gave a luster of midday to objects below, when what to my wondering eyes did appear, but a miniature sleigh and eight tiny reindeer._ But they aren't really tiny. Especially Blister. I think he's been eating some of the M&Ms. _With a little old driver so lively and quick,_ _I knew in a moment he must be St. Nick._ Is Nick really a Saint?"

"So some say."

"Is that a yes?" Again the slightly squinted eyes.

Oliver laughed. "Yes."

" _More rapid than eagles his coursers_ – another old word?"

"Yes. It means a swift mount." Boo gave him the same look Shane did when she expected more of an answer. "It means Nick's reindeer."

" _Coursers they came, and he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name: Now, Dasher! Now, Dancer! Now Prancer and Vitshun! On, Comet! On, Cupid! On, Donder and Blister! To the top of the porch! To the top of the wall! Now dash away! Dash away! Dash away all! As leaves pushed by a really big wind into the sky, up to the housetop the reindeer flew with the sleigh full of toys, and Nick too, and then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof the prancing and pawing of each little hoof. As I drew in my head, and was turning around, down the chimney Nick came with a bound._ I watched him do that last year, then we ate a cookie together. _He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot, and his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot; a bundle of toys he had flung on his back, and he looked like a peddler just opening his pack. His eyes—how they twinkled! his dimples, how merry! His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!_ That means red from being outside in the cold."

"I know," Oliver said.

" _His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow, and the beard on his chin was as white as the snow; the stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth, and the smoke, it encircled his head like a wreath._ That part isn't correked now days 'cause he quit smoking.

"Nick is a smart man," Oliver offered.

" _He had a broad face and a little round belly that shook when he laughed, like a bowl full of jelly. He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf, and I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself. A wink of his eye and a twist of his head soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread._ Dread means be 'fraid. _He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work, and filled all the stockings; then turned with a jerk. Laying his finger aside of his nose – ._ Mommy says that alongside the nose is fine, but not inside the nose."

Oliver laughed hard enough to shake the bed, causing Oscar to open both eyes wide with disapproval.

"Uh," Boo paused, searching for her place. "Oh. _Laying his finger aside of his nose, and giving a nod, up the chimney he rose. He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle, and away they all flew like the down of a thistle. But I heard him exclaim, ear he drove out of sight—Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night!"_


End file.
